Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 407: Chess (Part )

"Their bodies will suffer, but you wish them to avoid these sufferings." - The Book of Lorgar

Morse pushed a group of chess pieces forward a little on the table, symbolizing a squad of Space Marines that stepped out of the rectangular area covered by the bunker.

The team's vision passed over the decorative angel statue placed in the center of the chessboard - this was the only angel in the normal sense on the table, and was facing the corner of the Randan angel-like alien monster on the other side of the chessboard, which was also hiding behind the floor.

"This group, all aim at this alien angel monster," Morse announced, "Ten-man squad, thirty-two bolt guns and six cannon guns."

"Okay." The Emperor nodded. "You want to bet on a fatal blow?"

"Let's see." Morse shrugged, and all the dice in the dice plate floated up to a certain distance, and then fell down like a hail of bullets. After a crisp collision, they fell into the final calm while spinning.

"The first set of hit tests, a total of nine, one of which was six." Morse said calmly, "Equivalent to a critical hit. Three of them failed to pass the three mark. There are five left, and we will test the damage later."

"I remember that," the Emperor said, staring at the dice rolling down Morse's dice tray.

After confirming that the craftsman had not cheated, the Emperor no longer worried that this set of shots could cause substantial damage to the chess piece army he had.

In the end, they received a total of 7 points of damage from the bombs and 4 points from the cannons - according to the rules of the characters in the hands of the Emperor, the damage from the cannons was halved, which was 9 points of damage. Then through the filter of special protection and painlessness, this team scratched a small piece of the skin of the behemoth in the hands of the Emperor - a little damage, perhaps equivalent to knocking the behemoth's toes.

"Just like their attack, right?" Morse raised his chin and smiled. "An attack with insufficient power was just a light scratch. Even though we have more people, we are still inevitably at a disadvantage."

"The Word Bearers," the Emperor raised an eyebrow, "an attack in sector WB-37."

"The first few times," Morse nodded.

"They almost lost. The Word Bearers' firepower is more suitable for burning planets on the ground and large-scale executions. But for a giant beast flying in the void, even if they can dispatch tens of thousands of Space Marines at a time, quantitative change is still far from qualitative change."

The Emperor nodded slightly, agreeing with Morse's opinion, but at this moment, the craftsman changed the subject slightly - this was also his common trick.

"I thought you were not that concerned about the war in Randan, my Emperor," Morse said, turning a Space Marine chess piece on the table, rotating its front side to face the Emperor. "I didn't expect you to pay so much attention to your sons."

The Emperor glanced at him, "I read the war reports, Morse."

"I can't tell, but I believe you." Morse said briskly, with an upward note at the end of his voice.

A trace of helplessness flashed across the Emperor's deep eyes, "Continue." said the Lord of Mankind.

The first round of shooting ended very quickly, and more than ten angels under the Emperor were damaged by about five points or less, except for the alien squad that the Dark Angels faced. The First Legion boldly adopted the full overload of ions, and at the slight loss caused by the danger of overload, an angel fell.

"The First Legion, the leader of the army," Morse commented, "What a heroic attack, so I will reward them for their independent penetration, their quick turn, and their cover transfer."

He moved several squads of the First Legion forward and accurately bypassed the defense line formed by the alien angels, almost never entering the shooting range of any of them, or even the shooting range that could be reached after moving. A group of Deathwing Terminators served as the inevitable target of attack when arranging troops and deducing military forces, but their strong armor was not easily broken by the enemy.

The Emperor pondered, his fingers pinching his chin, his black hair falling on both sides of his shoulders.

"I'm assuming," he said, "that in this game, you haven't seen the abilities of my pieces, nor should you know the range of their long-range attacks."

"But this is the First Legion," Morse replied, winking playfully. "Lion El'Jonson's actions may be seen as a brilliant plot by his brothers, but can the truth of the matter be hidden from you?"

"He thinks so," said the Emperor.

"How tolerant you are, respected emperor." Morse shook his head and retracted his outstretched arm. "Like we agreed at the beginning, no close combat - or characters that come within an inch of each other will be destroyed at the same time, plus an explosion test related to destruction. So, my decision is that I will not engage in close combat."

"Your decision." The Emperor repeated the phrase with emphasis. "It is my turn."

He moved several alien angels forward a certain distance in turn to open up the shooting field. At the same time, he picked up a new alien angel from the table beside him. After observing it for a while, the Emperor frowned.

"Why are there so many Space Marines in the backfield?" the Emperor asked questioningly, "This is not the number at the beginning."

"My dear Emperor," Morse said with a smile, "You should know that on our battlefield, the four Primarchs will not put all their forces on the table at the first opportunity. Now that we have come to the second round, it is time for some hidden reserve forces to appear. At least you plan to pull out some new angels from the warp, don't you?"

"I stated their existence at the outset." The Emperor implicitly condemned Morse's non-compliance with the rules. "And you did not mention that you had a strategic reserve."

"Then consider it that I don't want to follow the rules." Morse said briskly, ignoring the Emperor's gaze. In a way, he did ignore part of the Emperor's gaze... that 'sad look'.

"In short, there is no point in my backfield that is three inches away from any army, unless you are willing to land here."

The craftsman pointed to a corner of the table.

"No," the Emperor said slowly.

That corner was guarded by the Iron Warrior, and with a few extra commands or added abilities, the angels in his hands would most likely not be able to scratch even a toe.

The Lord of Mankind thought about it and gave up on teleporting the angels in the reserve team to the battlefield in this round.

"Shooting phase," the Emperor said, pointing his finger at the base of an angel on the table. "First, this one. Attack..."

He paused for a second, then made the best choice from his perspective, "The Word Bearers."

"Wait a moment," Morse raised a finger. "The Word Bearers are like phantoms that deceive the enemy. They are returning to the place where they left the fortress in the flames and smoke."

He moved a group of chess pieces on the table, placing a squadron of Space Marines back within the shelter of their bunker.

"It's still WB-37." The Emperor looked up and found the corresponding real case, "Lorgar chose a strategic retreat."

"Lorgar Aurelion is loyal to you and everything you represent, and is willing to sacrifice the blood of countless Word Bearers in exchange for your favor, but he is not a fool. After encountering new weapons and heavy defenses, he also understands how to establish multiple defenses in depth, command troops to disperse and attack, achieve effective encirclement, and gradually weaken the enemy's defenses."

Having said that, Morse folded his hands in front of him and placed them flat on the table.

"And what about Perturabo's advice?" the Emperor asked.

"That's right." Morse's face showed a sincere smile. "And more than that."

He brought out a group of Iron Warriors from the other end of the bunker. "Under the leadership of Perturabo, the Iron Warriors relied on precise long-range fire support to cover the retreat of the Word Bearers. Our Iron Lord personally took command, using complex calculations and sophisticated instruments - of course, he made them himself, to command artillery and missiles to accurately strike the enemy's vital positions. Under his beautiful command, our firepower covered the entire battlefield. Let's try to do some damage, Emperor."

"And I haven't even aimed at them yet." The Emperor sighed. "This is where the Iron Warriors are on guard, my dear Emperor." Morse picked up the water cup at hand, picked up the kettle at the same time, refilled himself with a glass of water, and drank slowly.

They conducted another round of damage tests. Even though the total number of guns rolled was lower than that of the Word Bearers in the previous round, the Iron Warriors' missile hit rate, gun power, and armor-piercing ability were significantly higher than those of the Word Bearers. Under the negative premise of alert shooting and being forced to fight, the Iron Warriors still successfully took down half of the health of the Randan alien.

"But you cannot know every move of the Randan Angel. That's why..." The Emperor's voice gradually became low, his expression remained calm and unpredictable. Even though Lion El'Jonson had not been with the Emperor for a long time, the shadow of the Emperor did exist in the unfathomable nature of Lion.

"These legions will suffer damage." Morse took the initiative and tapped the chessboard a few times. Some chess pieces fell down. Except for the Dark Angels who were alone in the deep, the other three armies suffered losses.

"Your warriors are dying," the craftsman commented, pointing to his backfield. "Fortunately, there are still many of them."

"Don't say that." The Emperor responded neither lightly nor seriously. Morse used the method of mathematical expectation to directly complete the shooting and damage-causing tests of several Randan angels. Although this was quick, it did take away some of the flavor of the chess game.

But neither of them cared much about this.

"It's your turn." The emperor nodded.

"Okay, then first..." Morse snapped his fingers, and a pair of pearl-white infiltrators appeared in the backfield of the Randan aliens. Since most of the Randan angels were giant beasts, and the Emperor had not yet started to cheat, their number was not large. This left the infiltrators with a wide invasion position.

"An abandoned outpost, one of the few ground areas that still retains intact metal structures, and the lucky Horus Lupercal." Morse smiled and calmly pronounced every syllable of the name of the Lord of the Moon Wolf.

"During this infiltration and invasion, they regrettably confirmed that these aliens did not require any logistics, so the blocking work was naturally difficult to implement. However, these angels seemed to have some way of communicating with each other. At the same time, they also further confirmed that there were different groups of angels, and a collective commander should be the leader of the corresponding group - the leader controlled the angels, and the angels controlled the mixed consciousness within them."

"LW-55," the Emperor reported the corresponding battle number, "My warrior launched a precise strike. His flexible tactics and excellent surprise attack helped him weaken an entire small group of Randan."

"But that group is not so similar to the human concept of angels," Morse said, "and is also more ancient than the angels. I don't know where they evolved from, but they are definitely not Groxmon, and because they are almost insensitive to pain, it probably doesn't mean they are a group of ant bulls."

"You're the only one who would think that."

"Maybe. It doesn't matter." Morse said, moving some of the Luna Wolf pieces. "Let's have a round of shooting."

A Randan angel died as a result.

The Emperor shook his head.

"His actions also raised the aliens' alertness, and their defense became tighter. Some of the aliens evolved tougher armor on the spot. Therefore, your shooting hit result will be reduced by one, while the aliens' armor protection result will be increased by one."

The Emperor described, and as he finished his words, some chess pieces grew grayish-white shells on their surfaces. At the same time, their surfaces seemed to be covered with a holographic projection, which was used to deceive the missiles' aiming and the gunners' observation.

"Throughout the entire game?" Morse asked. "Great, now we're all cheating."

He held out his hand, fingers wrapped in black cloth, and pointed at an army of Iron Warriors.

"As new difficulties emerged, their long-range fire support mission became more difficult and less effective. Perturabo decided to change his strategy and increase the concentration of firepower. After several precise strikes, they destroyed some Randan angels that could form a defensive linkage and figured out the basic principle of the opponent's armor.

"The entire fleet is stepping up research into more suitable war weapons - that's why our fire support is starting to play a role again. From now on, our shooting results will be exempt from the correction effect."

"IW-68," the Emperor said, a hint of appreciation in his tone.

"After that, led by the Word Bearers, they launched an offensive. The Luna Wolves, Iron Warriors, and Word Bearers worked closely together to break through a heavy enemy defense line.

“They took joint action, combined their respective strengths, and gradually disintegrated the enemy’s defense through intensive offensive tactics.

"Horus Lupercal declared his power, dispelling all the inexplicable mourning effects caused by the battle with the Angels of Randan within the Legion; Lorgar Aurelion prayed in the sept, and the Word Bearers were unparalleled in their bravery - really, did you not protect them? I even had my doubts. The Iron Warriors crossed the 27th line on the north side and defended along that line, allowing others to launch an assault on the Angels of Randan under their cover.

"Finally, they occupied twelve planets - planets in the middle layer of Randan."

The alien angel's chess pieces were dismembered and shattered in the torrent of ammunition rushing forward, and scattered throughout the depths of the starry sky.

"As a counterattack," the Emperor said, pushing two chess pieces into the crowd, almost within an inch of close combat distance, "the Randan aliens will attack from two directions at the same time, organizing a denser battle formation."

Morse took over the conversation. "And the Iron Warriors guarding the line did not retreat, even though Aurelion suggested this. Part of the camp continued to advance to the front area, while the rest of the camp held its position, attracting the firepower of the Randan advance detachment. At the end, an explosion occurred on this line of defense..."

He gently pressed his finger on the top of the bunker on the table, and the building collapsed immediately, exploding into a ruin with only partial defensive capabilities, and all the Iron Warriors and Randan aliens hidden in the bunker were buried inside.

"They were in danger of self-destruction," Morse whispered, "but they expected it."

He lifted a floor board, fished out the Iron Warrior chess pieces one by one, placed them in his palm, and gently put them back on the table. This batch of chess pieces was severely damaged, but only one chess piece had its head broken off, and most of the rest had broken arms and legs.

"They need to fix up, and we'll see you in a few rounds."

Morse put them temporarily on the low table nearby.

"Where are the Dark Angels?" the Emperor reminded.

"They slowed down, and instead of announcing a charge, they organized a rally to restore the health of the legion," Morse said. "As the Randan aliens rushed towards them, Lion El'Jonson organized a perfect counterattack, first gaining priority in the attack and then defeating a group of Randan."

"However, a group of Randan aliens broke in," the Emperor said, "As the war was going on, a new group appeared among the defeated Randan group."

He took out a few silver bipedal angels and placed them inside the Randan group that the Dark Angel was facing.

"Do you remember the special rules of our battle, my emperor?" Morse tilted his head. "If we get within an inch of each other, we will be destroyed together."

As his words fell, a cluster of dark fire swept across the table, burning the silver angel and the other Randan angels adjacent to them into ashes.

A dice spun around and finally stopped with six points facing up.

"One explosion," said the Emperor, "three points of fatal damage accumulated within six inches."

"Isn't this in some sense," Morse pretended to think about the wording for a moment, then clapped his hands, "effective even in death?"

The Emperor lowered his eyes and did not answer.

In his silence, the decorative angel statue in the center of the table collapsed piece by piece, disappeared in the swirling dust, and returned to the invisible dust.

(End of this chapter)